An indefatigable seeker of food, he no longer thought of food.

He was not hungry, and he did not want to eat.
With his hot tongue he lapped frequently at the cool water of the creek, and even more frequently he turned half about, and sniffed the wind.

He knew that the man-smell and the strange thunder and the still more inexplicable lightning lay behind him.

All night he had been on guard, and he was cautious now.
For a particular hurt Thor knew of no particular remedy.

He was not a botanist in the finer sense of the word, but in creating him the Spirit of the Wild had ordained that he should be his own physician.